"Andre Norton - Oak, Yew, Ash & Rowan 1 - To The King A Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

the

Squeakers seldom came around these days.
She had never been able to really see the Squeakers except with occasional sidelong glances, but she
could certainly hear them when in the night they came to visit Zazar. They squeaked and cluttered, and
sometimes purred. Ashen thought they must be very nice little creatures, and she longed to be able to
hold one and stroke it. Such a luxury, however, had been denied her so far. There was just too much
work to do.

Also, since the thunder-star had streaked toward the north and landed with an impact that shook the
earth even as far as the Bog and lit up the sky, the

Squeakers' visits had become less frequent. All of the grown-ups now went around with worried
expressions, especially when one of the fire- mountains awoke and streaked the sky with spark-filled
dark clouds. All this had no great effect on

Ashen, however, nor did it diminish in the slightest the number of ever- present chores that had to be
done.

The roof eternally needed repair so they could at least sleep without being drenched by the frequent
rains. Just getting in enough food to feed themselves for more than a day occupied much of the rest of
their time. In this they were not any different from the people of the village located down the small hillside
from Zazar's hut, close by one of the deep pools that made up most of the

Bog-land. This pool was one of the rare ones, though, different from the others, because the water
bubbled up from underneath, and was relatively fresh. Other pools held a stagnant, slime-covered, smelly
liquid that people avoided as much as they could when they went out food-gathering. Because she had
no freshwater pool near her dwelling, Zazar preferred to catch rainwater in her big pot for their use in
drinking, cooking, and bathing. When she was using the pot for other thingsтАФsuch as boiling up the nasty
glue, or making potions, or cooking a large mess of the stew that was their usual foodтАФthey had to rely
on the village pool like everyone else did. Ashen was glad that this duty had not fallen to her. Even Kazi
could not make her stir the pot and go down to the pool carrying water jars at the same time.

Ashen was always uncomfortable when she ventured into the village. She knew that she was different
from the inhabitants and knew also that the villagers were uneasy with her presence. Why she was
different from everybody else, she did not know or understand. It was a fact, however, and one she had
to acknowledge.

For that matter, Zazar herself was different both from the villagers and from

Ashen. She had told Ashen about it, a little, once in a rare mood when she had drunk a little too much of
a certain potion Ashen was strictly forbidden to touch. Zazar claimed she had existed many more
lifetimes than Bog- folk had and that she would be here long after they were gone. And further, she
claimed that when she did get old and a young, vigorous Wysen-wyf was called, she would bring it forth
from her own body, alone and without help. Impossibly, she claimed that the Bog-folk knew all about it.
This, Ashen thought, should surely have turned the Bog-folk against Zazar forever ifтАФand it was a big
ifтАФthe stories were true.

But somehow, the Bog-people accepted Zazar even as they rejected Ashen. Perhaps it was because of
the brews Zazar could concoct, the healing mixtures, the herb-rich salves that kept away the worst of the